


Ambrosia (Perfectworld Hades-Persephone AU)

by anamnesisapproaches



Category: Pokemon - Fandom
Genre: AU, Fluff, Hades and Persephone AU, Hugs, Kissing, M/M, Probably ooc, bridal style carrying, commission, cute pet names, hopefully, im still figuring out how to write these two, lip kisses, maybe next time it’ll be better, neck kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 05:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19144903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamnesisapproaches/pseuds/anamnesisapproaches
Summary: A Hades and Persephone themed AU for Perfectworldshipping.Lysandre gets lonely in the underworld. Dead souls don’t make for the bests company, and his Pyroar can only quell him for so long.He decides, one day, to leave for a while and get out. That is when the god of the underworld meets up with someone charming.





	Ambrosia (Perfectworld Hades-Persephone AU)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a commissioned/requested work. 
> 
> I’ve never written an AU like this before and I’m kind of new to writing the characters so uh. 
> 
> Sorry if it’s bad.
> 
> Edit: hey! I made art for this, so if you want, you can check it out here!  
> https://www.deviantart.com/afflatusaura/art/More-PerfectworldShipping-802778176?ga_submit_new=10%3A1561234794&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1

The underworld.

It is filled with countless souls, most of which mourning in despair. They cry, and sob, though eventually quell themselves, and go into a silent limbo. In some places, souls were vicious to one another, and in other places, they practically partied. They all seemed to have some social connection to one another, though avoiding the one who is behind it all.

He was Lysandre, god of the underworld. He paced endlessly in his main room, listening to the sound of his feet. It was lonely, down in his place. Nobody was ever present, at least not living. Of course, his massive tri-headed Pyroar kept him company, but he needed something more. Simply being next to a breathing creature wasn’t enough contact after thousands of years of solitude.

So he sought out another source of interaction. He did this by leaving his home for a fleeting amount of time to seek out someone to watch. He need not even talk or touch them. Simply feel a living person’s presence. However, a stroke of luck hit him, as he accidentally happened upon a beautiful being, which struck immediate interest in his soul. The Sycamore trees surrounding them shaded the land.

There was a charming man, laying propped up on his elbows, caressing the moss underneath his dainty form. White robes of pure silk draped along his chest and hips, thinly concealing what lay underneath. Of course, the person had heard the underworld’s god approach, and turned around to face him. There, they stood ten feet apart, gazing at the other.

“Hello.” Spoke the one in white, pushing himself up into a standing position. Lysandre took one singular step back, staying cautious. “Come here, let me know your name.”

“Lysandre. I am a god. And you?”

“Augustine Sycamore. I happen to be a god as well..” His voice matched his smile, and the raven black hair draped along his slender face. Sycamore’s details were very slight. Not too noticeable. “Can I ask what kind of god you are? You look a bit grim despite the hair..” he was very observant, for grim he was.

“God of the Underworld.”

“Oh…”

“Yes, I know what you’re about to say, but please disregard the normal ‘evil’ characteristics, for the only one I withhold is the black silk.” Lysandre waved his hand flamboyantly, however stopped as he noticed Sycamore’s eyes glimmering brightly. This confused him greatly. The benign god seemed to not care that the other was the god of. A very forgiving being, Sycamore was. His bright aura radiated like the glow of the moon. Lysandre couldn’t help but admire it.

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of any of those things. You’re okay, I’m not one to judge on profession. You can’t blame a warrior for battling, no?” Sycamore let out an uplifting giggle, brightening up Lysandre’s life little by little. He felt a nice feeling flutter in his body. He felt alive again.

“I suppose not. Though most people seem to assume I am a bad person due to my… Place in this world.” Lysandre sighed deeply.

“Well, if nobody does your work, the world would be in much more disarray, would it not be? We need someone to keep the dead in check. And you do a wonderful job at it, as I’ve noticed..” Sycamore rubbed at his bristled chin, giving the taller a coy glance. Without a second thought, Lysandre held out his hand.

“Here, we can go on a walk. You’re familiar with this forest, no?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then show me around. I am dying to know more about this place.. Very beautiful.” Sycamore took his offered hand cautiously, though willingly. His strong, bulky, yet slender appearance was perfectly accented with the various shades of black and gray that were interwoven onto Lysandre’s robes.

“Only if you tell me about yours.”

They both agreed on such terms, and began to walk. Lysandre’s robes caught on the occasional twig, almost tripping him from time to time. If the silk on both their clothing wasn’t enchanted to be eternally clean, it would have been torn up and dirty within moments of sauntering around and staring at wildlife all the while trekking through mud. Sycamore was not afraid the romp around the forest and get a little dirty, himself. He was eager to explore with Lysandre, despite knowing everything already.

“What’s this plant?” Lysandre would point to a fern. Sycamore ran over, inspecting it carefully, checking up on its health.

“This one is a shiffern. It’s name comes from the Pokémon Shiftree, and it thrives in the dark, like how the thing it’s named after is a dark-type Pokémon.” Sycamore explained, and went off into the medicinal values of the specific fern. He rambled on for what felt like hours, spewing information about the breeding cycles of Pokémon, the way the trees would grow the best in the right conditions, and how it could be used to treat boils.

“Is the forest always this calm?” He asked, watching as a small Deerling ran off to meet its parent Sawsbuck. They were both bright green in hue, eyes even matching the color. “It’s so relaxed.”

“Sometimes things come along and cause a ruckus. Myself included. But most the time it’s silent like this.” Using the word “silent” wasn’t the terminology that Lysandre would use. There were countless Pokémon making noises, Staravia and Pidgey chirping at each other, hundreds of butterfree wafting about in the filtered green light. An occasional odd-colored Pokémon would pass by, trying to catch up with its relatives.

“Though it is nice to be away from everyone once in a while….”

There were a few things that Lysandre seemed to enjoy about this man already. He was good at smiling, and seemed to hold an uplifting view upon the world. He was very optimistic, and exhibited it flawlessly without even talking. Sycamore also seemed to be understanding. He could figure out the obvious, and scoped out how to approach conversations almost like a sixth sense.

“The breeze is nice up here…. Much better than I would imagine.” The dark god loved how the wind practically caressed his face, running up and through the hair he held so high with pride. However it did not flow very much, Unlike Sycamore’s Hair, which had a long lock that could easily blow with the wind’s achingly slow breaths.

“It’s really nice!” Sycamore bundled up his robes to wade playfully through mud, while Lysandre took caution to remain in drying grounds, hopping along over the patches of muck by daintily prancing upon branches of rocks.

“What’s it like in the Underworld..?”

“Ah. There’s the question…” Lysandre scoffs, crossing his arms cockily. Sycamore blushed at the smirk which was directed towards him. “It’s dark. Not exactly gloomy, but not pleasant either. There is more crying than I would like, but there are quiet places you can slip into, and other areas where people and Pokémon are more relaxed.” His explanation wasn’t the best, but it drew his newfound friend in closer, both senses of the word completely valid with his action.

“Sounds… New.”

“I can bring you to it, if you want? I can get you past all the guardians because of my status, and you’ll be perfectly safe, so long as you stay close to me.”

“Lysandre…” Sycamore has only known him for a little while, but was interested nonetheless. The way he fawned over Lysandre surprised both beings in the pair.

“Here, take my hand. We can go now.”

“Now?”

Lysandre nodded, heart leaping out of his chest as Augustine took his hand almost excitedly. The redhead pulled him closer, then dipped the man, swiveling his free arm underneath his knees. Sycamore squeaked, arms tucking to his chest as he felt the ground beneath him pull away, Lysandre having picked him up. The lighter god practically burrowed into the darker’s form, enjoying the warmth for what it was worth.

Lysandre made his way to the Underworld, requesting the ferry to bring them across the accursed river which they kept for some forsaken reason. Despite the sallow and sunken faces of the dead and weary souls, Sycamore seemed to exhibit more sympathy towards them all than fear, or even repulsion for that matter.

“I feel bad for them…. Do they ever feel sad?”

“Yes, they do get sad, but so do the living. Do not pity the dead, for that makes them feel guilty… However you may talk with whomever you like, so long as you don’t cause distress.” Lysandre hopped off the boat onto the river’s inner bank, making his way through many layers of miserable conditions before finally making it to his section of the underworld.

“I love how the ceiling looks. It's so beautiful, the way the spikes of sharp stone jet down from the top…” he commented, now gripping Lysandre’s robes even tighter. “It looks pretty, in an odd way.”

“Does it, now? That’s an interesting way of looking at it…” he placed the god he had carried down onto something soft, which happened to be a cushioned chair which he kept mostly for his massive three-headed pyroar, which trotted down over to him, licking at Lysandre from three different directions. Their rough comb-like tongues scraped at his skin, cleansing it despite not being dirty. His Pyroar has triple the heads, Triple the size, Triple the aggression, and Triple the affection, at least compared to that of a normal one.

“Oh wow, such a beautiful beast…” Sycamore whispered, commenting on Lysandre’s guard lion, which purred loudly to its master. Their bright orange manes flickered like fire, burning brightly, yet giving off no light. The smaller of the two gods reached out, caressing it much akin to the moss he had done the same thing to earlier. “Does he have names?”

“Yes, actually. The name is Cloud.” Lysandre started firmly. Sycamore gave him a critical look. “What… Is wrong..?

“Why didn’t you name them all?”

“What.”

“You only named one of your dogs, and yet you have three! That’s wrong…” Sycamore thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers, getting an idea. “Here, the middle one it Cloudy-“

“-Cloud-“

“-I don’t care, the left one is…. Spot.” Sycamore was coming up with names off the top of his head, not caring too much as to the meaning behind them, simply desiring the name each head of the accursed creature. “And the right one will be Fluffy.”

“Fluffy…? That is hardly the name of a vicious guard Pokémon…” Lysandre’s protest slowly faded as Sycamore gave him a sweet look, cheeks rosy pink. His smile was not one the god of the underworld could refuse, giving up on trying to refuse them. “...Fluffy is a nice name.” And with that, Sycamore let out a small laugh, inching close beside Lysandre, even taking his hand. This, of course, was an unexpected jump, regarding the fact they had known each other for not too long of a time. He wasn’t sure how long they had been up, gods often not needing sleep as much as humans. Their bonding session was eating up a lot of time, however.

In the end, they both seemed to enjoy it.

After much more time, Sycamore appeared to tucker out. He began to move more slowly, losing energy over time. Exploration was tiring, especially in such a grim realm. After a long while, Sycamore eventually grew tired enough that Lysandre opted to carry him instead of walking.

“Are you hungry, little Flowerbud?” Lysandre asked, placing the man down on his bed. He did not have an extra one, as guests weren’t ever present. This would have to do.

“Yes, I am, really. Would it be a bother if…” Sycamore’s gaze trailed off to the side, eyelids slowly closing. “Can I have something to eat? I can repay, if you want.” Sycamore tucked his legs to his chest, placing his chin on the knee’s surface. Lysandre’s heart skipped a beat, a lurching feeling almost spiking in his stomach.

“I only have ripe Pomeg Fruit.” His tone turned deep, almost serious in nature. A slight slur of his words brought more attention to certain words. “Are you sure you want it? There is no need to pay me anything, I simply hope you do understand…. The type of food I can serve.”

“I’ve heard about it. I’m not completely unaware, so I’ll try it. I’ve heard the fruit is very potent! Spicy, even.” He waved a hand to accent his words, Lysandre caving in instantly. The god retrieved a fruit for the exhausted one, handing him the hearty fruit. The world almost slowed to a stop as he watched Sycamore bring it up to his mouth, and bite into the fruit.

 

* * *

 

Lysandre returned to bed from a long few days of tolerating his job. Rolling into bed like a barrel of wine would to a river. His robes splayed out onto the floor beside the bed, draping like cascades of black water. The tall, muscular god felt small arms wrap around his chest, twisting over to gaze upon the bright, glowing person beside him. There was his husband, busy pressing a few kisses to his neck, legs becoming entwined with Lysandre’s.

“Hey~” Sycamore murmured, the vibrations from his light voice sending chills down the taller’s spine. Something about this moment was perfect. There, his beloved lay in silver robes, admiring him, and here he lay, caressing the smaller cheeks with much of the same emotion. He stared at his thin lips, eyes almost glimmering in the dim light sourced from the underworld’s fire.

“Lyssy.”

“...”

“Lyyyyyyssssssssssyyyyy~~”

“Yes, Gussy~?” Lysandre shot back, watching as Sycamore’s cheeks flushed a deep red, almost akin to his Pyroar’s flowing silken mane. Laughing deeply, the man wrapped his own arms around his husband, squeezing his fragile form to prompt a loud squeak from the smaller god. It was now Lysandre’s turn to press kisses to Sycamore’s body.

“I just wanted to say…. That you’re…” With the love of your life nibbling at you, it was hard to think or talk straight. However nothing about Augustine was straight, for he was more gay than anyone in the world at this moment. “...You’re…”

“Shhhh, relax…. Take your time.” Lysandre massaged his beloved god’s back, rubbing away whatever knots cursed his flesh. Their bed was shrouded by cloudy veils of thin fabric, letting light shine in very slightly, all the while obscuring their bodies, allowing them to have true privacy.

“Love you..” his coy remark was all the man could manage, resulting in him nuzzling to Lysandre’s chest.

“Oh, you’re just precious, Augustine, Come here..” he bundled up his love, twirling the locks of pitch black hair in his slender fingers. They both hummed in harmony, their lips greeting each other. They had been together for ages now, and their love had not ceased in the slightest.

“You know that I love you, too, right?”

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”


End file.
